


Ghosts

by orphan_account



Series: Femslash February 2015 [2]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Femslash February
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 02:34:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3273521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What ever happened to South Dakota? A lot of things. This was only one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from [faranzi](http://faranzi.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.

Carolina stormed into the locker room, threw off her helmet, and slammed her fist into the nearest locker. It might have been CT’s. Her fist left a dent. She’d apologize later.

She didn’t scream, or shout, or make any outward display of anger, beyond punching the locker. She wanted to. But she didn’t. 

It ended up being a smart decision, because as she turned to walk the few steps over to her own locker, she noticed South leaning against the far wall, watching with a smirk and a glint of amusement. She had already removed all her armor for the evening. Carolina let her gaze travel over South’s body in one quick sweep before forcing herself to look away.

As a leader, Carolina knew several things about South Dakota; above all that she was a liability. Every one of her strengths was balanced by a weakness with the potential to throw off the entire team or ruin an entire mission: her ferocity was matched only by her temper, her tenacity by stubbornness, and her skill by thoughtlessness. They clashed in every way, Carolina and South; Carolina believed in order and discipline where South was a wild card, and a dangerous one. There was nothing about South that should have drawn Carolina to her, at least from a practical standpoint. 

As a woman, however, Carolina was all too aware of South’s less practical attributes, the ones that didn’t come into play on a mission or during a training exercise. Namely, South was the most attractive woman Carolina had ever laid eyes on, not that there was a lot of competition in that particular field. South had a body like a wound-up spring, all tightly coiled muscle and sculpted limbs. Her skin had gone pale from a lack of sunlight, spending most of its time in the darkness of space, or else covered by armor. It was crisscrossed with scars and dotted with bruises, and it moved with a graceless intensity Carolina, even with years of training and superior ability, could never imitate.

But there was nothing between them. Carolina wasn’t much of a romantic, and she got the sense that South was even less of one. Besides, they didn’t exactly like each other. South resented Carolina’s constant placement at the top of the leaderboard; Carolina was annoyed by South’s blatant disregard for authority. Carolina wasn’t the type to get in bed with someone she couldn’t stand on a day-to-day basis.

“What’s the matter with you?” South asked, referring to Carolina’s brief outburst of anger. Carolina got the distinct feeling South already knew the answer. Project Freelancer had received a new addition to its ranks today, and Carolina wasn’t happy about it. This new Agent Texas was good. Probably better than Carolina. That wouldn’t fly.

“Nothing,” Carolina lied, taking off her armor piece by piece. South watched, betraying nothing on her face. She could be irritatingly cryptic with her emotions when she wasn’t on a furious rampage.

“Whatever you say, babe.”

Carolina scowled, but didn’t say anything about the sarcastic term of endearment. She’d been called worse. Mostly by Washington when he was really, really tired and really, really sore after a training session. Washington was kind of a baby sometimes. 

Finally stripped down to her clothing, a breathable white shirt and leggings, sweat-soaked and worn, Carolina turned one last time to South. Their bodies were similarly marked up with scars and bruises. South had a fresh, purply one blooming across her side just below her sports bra, and an impressive black eye that had faded somewhat green. 

“You need something, South? Or can I leave?” Carolina spat out her words with all the sharpness and intimidation she could muster. Not that that sort of thing ever worked on South, or ever would. She didn’t respect anyone. Maybe her brother, sometimes, but no one else. 

“Nah,” South said, stretching up to her full height, which was still shorter than Carolina. “Just thought I’d like to be here for the beginning of the end. Maybe I’ll write a book. _The Rise and Fall of Agent Carolina_.” She grinned, and it wasn’t friendly. “You’re number two now, babe.” 

“Not yet I’m not,” Carolina growled, but she knew it was only a matter of time. She’d seen Texas out there. She knew she’d have to be pretty deep in denial not to think Texas would quickly overtake her on the leaderboard. “And I’m not your babe,” she added spitefully, even though she knew making a point of it would only encourage South’s behavior. She couldn’t always be perfectly rational. It was surprisingly exhausting.

South’s grin widened and she moved to walk past Carolina toward the door, patting Carolina’s shoulder on her way out. Carolina shrugged herself out of South’s reach. 

“Not yet you’re not.” 

* * *

Carolina waited a while before she asked. She didn’t want to seem too eager, or too desperate. She had a carefully constructed image to maintain, even now, at what seemed like a few steps away from the end of the world. The end of her world, at least. 

Finally she and Washington had a moment alone, away from the Reds and the Blues. They stood in silence for a while. She could tell, from the tension in the air, that Washington wanted to say something. She ignored it. She had her own things to say, her own questions to ask. One, in particular.

“What ever happened to South Dakota?”

He knew there had been something between them. Of course he knew. But he also knew Carolina, and that she wouldn’t appreciate being spoon-fed a sugarcoated version of the truth. So he was blunt, and honest.

“She died.”

Straight to the point. It felt like a punch to the gut, but even beneath her helmet, Carolina refused to let the pain register on her face. 

Wash didn’t say, “I’m sorry.” Of course he was sorry. They were all sorry. But it was there, unspoken, and Carolina resented it. She didn’t need his pity. She didn’t need anything. Not even South. 

She stared straight ahead, at the sky, and the landscape, and the Reds and the Blues. She envied them. They were so oblivious to everything, everything they had been or would be a part of. Maybe they weren’t happy, but they were closer to it than Carolina could ever hope to be.

“I always knew she would.”


End file.
